


Legacy of a Rider

by Cimderslla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Basically, Blood, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Fantasy AU, Im just gonna add tags as i go, Implied/Referenced Torture, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence, dragon rider au, fuck voltron this is my city now, inheritance cycle au, so you're gonna see some fights, you dont have to have read the series because this is just loosely based on it though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:00:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimderslla/pseuds/Cimderslla
Summary: The tyrannical Emperor Zarkon has been ruling over the vast continent of Alagaësia for over 1000 years.In the dead on night, the elven princess of Altea teleports four dragon eggs to four teenagers across the land.Lance, out hunting in the Spine, trying to feed his family.Hunk, working hard in his mothers’ forge, trying to keep it running.Pidge, searching for the truth about the disappearance of her father and brother.Keith, alone and desperately trying to find out the truth about who he is.Together, they are thrust into a new world full of magic, elves and unpredictable danger all while being hunted down by the Empire and its servants. The future of Alagaësia and all of its people rests on their shoulders.





	1. The Shade

**Author's Note:**

> Right, this is my first ever voltron fic so why not kick it off with dragons! This is based off the Inheritance Cycle series but you don't need to have read it to understand whats going on, so dont worry about that. But if you can go check out the series because it's really fucking good.  
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins

Allura had a mission. One which needed completing with the utmost urgency.

Trees grew in their numbers, the thick foliage blocking out the night sky and barely allowing any starlight to shine through, leaving the ground coated in shadow. She rode through the night, her two guards blending in with the surrounding darkness, their dark cloaks and even darker steeds rendering them almost indistinguishable from the gloom they found themselves in.

Ahead of her, Regris held a long silver knife in one hand while the other grasped the reigns of his horse, keeping it on its path, while behind her rode Antok, bent low over his stallion with his large sword clenched in a tight fist. Their powerful steeds breathed heavily, having been riding for well over a day now, and their hoofbeats echoed throughout the forest, piercing the night with their repetitive thuds. Allura’s own horse, a white mare, strode on with purpose and speed, as if sensing the importance of the contents of her saddlebags and knowing it must be delivered with as much haste as possible.

  
Allura kept her head held high, occasionally glancing down at the saddlebags to reassure herself that they were still there. It was vital she crossed this forest, as it was the last major leg of their journey, and they desperately needed to reach their destination without being detected. Zarkon had spies everywhere, and she would only feel at ease once she reached the forests of Olkarion, a place she knew was safe from the Empire’s reach.

There was a slight movement in the brush ahead, so small it would have gone unnoticed in the dark to anyone, but Allura was an elf, and her hawklike vision meant that she saw it instantly. She narrowed her eyes, and the brush moved again, ever so slightly, but against the wind.  
Something cold ran over her, and just when she opened her mouth to warn her guards, figures burst out of the darkness around them, snarling war cries as they rushed towards the trio.

Yellow eyes glowed in the dark and Regris let out a cry of “Galra!” before black arrows sprouted from his chest and he fell backwards with a strangled gasp. Allura’s horse whirled around and galloped back down the path they had just come from, panic diving the mare faster than ever before.

From the corner of her eye, Allura could see Antok bent over his steed racing after her, clutching his sword as he slashed at any galra that came close, relieving a few of their heads as he went. He had an arrow buried in his shoulder, but he still continued to attack the galra that raced after them till he broke through the pack and began to catch up to her.

A moment of relief rushed through her when she saw he was safe, but it wasn’t meant to last as a Galra dropped down from the trees above with a bellow and knocked him from his horse onto the forest floor, where he was quickly overwhelmed and finished off with a gleam of silver and a spray of blood.

Allura let out a cry of sorrow at the sight. Antok had been a good friend to her over the years, and he deserved more than to be ruthlessly slaughtered in the dirt. Turning her head, she clenched her jaw in determination and anger, spurring on her horse even more. The stench of Galra filled the air, driving her steed into a state of frenzy and they sped off, the howls of the beasts behind them driving the pair forward even more.

As she rode, the sounds of the galra faded slightly and she allowed herself a brief moment of hope that she might actually escape before a feeling of static filled the air, making her hair rise and her heart freeze cold. Allura knew what it meant all too well.

She sliced through the straps on her saddle with a dagger she kept sheathed at her hip, slinging the saddlebags over her shoulders before leaping off the horse with inhuman speed and agility, just before a bolt of purple energy struck her steed, killing it in an instant. Allura didn’t stop as she raced off into the forest with the bloodthirsty pack of galra not far behind. She paid no notice to them, now aware of the even larger threat which had appeared. These galra were nothing compared to what lead them.

Allura shot through the forest, a blur of movement that slipped between trees and lept over twisted roots. The faint moonlight barely illuminated her surroundings, but to her it was as if sunshine streamed through the forest, casting it algow with its warm rays.

A pair of running footsteps abruptly sounded from her right and Allura turned just as a galra leapt at her, twisted blade raised and bloodlust gleaming in its yellow eyes. She slid under its sword and spun, arm extended, and neatly slit its throat with her dagger, wincing as she felt some of its blood spray onto her face. It was dead before it even hit the ground.

This brief encounter didn’t hinder her on her escape, her movements so smooth and agile she returned to running instantly, though as she ran more galra attempted to spill her blood but all were dispatched as quickly as the first. Dark blood coated her dagger and arm, which flicked off the blade as she ran, splattering her pants and shirt with flecks of dark foul smelling liquid.

Allura leapt over a fallen log and flew into a clearing, kicking up dirt and leaves as she raced towards the other side, but before she could get there the trees in front of her burst into flames with an almighty roar and a blast of heat, making her throw her hand up instinctively to try and block the heat. Skidding around, she lost her balance and slid sideways, throwing her hand to the floor to catch herself before she fell fully, leaving grooves in the dirt where her fingers dug into the ground.

Reclaiming her balance she tried to run out to the other side but that also burst aflame, the unnatural purple fire licked at the sky and forced her back into the center of the clearing, trapping her inside with no means of escape.

Upon realising this, Allura plunged her hands into two of the saddlebags, her palms brushing the smooth surfaces of what laid within, and began chanting, words of power rapidly flying from her lips as she weaved the spell with frantic intensity. She wouldn’t let the galra get their hands on them, not after everything she’d done to protect them, not after everything she’d lost.

  
With a brilliant flash of white light the two saddlebags were instantly emptied and Allura felt her energy drain immensely, but she kept her guard up, ready to defend the last two with her dying breath.

Around her stood the remaining galra in a wide circle near the edge of the clearing, the fear of disobeying their leader outweighing their fear of getting burnt. An animalistic scream sounded from the forest and all the galra winced at the noise. Allura felt like she had just been doused with cold water, and her head whipped around trying to locate the source of the sound when she received a blast of dark purple magic to her chest, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her sprawling to the floor, her body twitching as small crackles of violet energy sparked around her.

She had never felt pain like it. Her whole body was screaming in agony, as if every single nerve had been set on fire. She found she couldn’t move, her limbs locked up and the muscles twitched sporadically while blood filled her mouth. She must have bitten her tongue when she fell. Allura lead face down in the dirt, eyes clenched shut as she let out a cry of pain, blood dribbling down her chin as she did so. Well she assumed she did, all she could hear was a loud ringing in her ears.

It took her a few moments to gather her wits, and upon remembering what she had to do, Allura forced open her eyes and scanned her surroundings for the saddlebags. They had been thrown a short distance away, not far from her dagger, and Allura summoned her willpower and the last of her strength and began to crawl. She physically dragged herself towards the bags, trying to ignore the staticy feeling of the magic which smothered her completely, pressing down on her with a weight unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  
It felt like an eternity before she reached the bags, or it could have been a few seconds, she couldn’t tell, but when she got there she slipped her hands inside, the cool surfaces of the dragon eggs contrasting against the blazing heat from the fire which burned all around her. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth but she began to chant again, the same spell but with even more desperation than before. These dragon eggs needed to be sent to their riders, it was the only way she could keep them safe and out of Zarkon’s hands.

With the last of her energy she finished the spell and the eggs vanished in another flash of blinding white light, taking the last of Allura’s energy with them.  
A smile grew on her face when she realised they were gone and her head dropped down onto her arm, having no energy to be able to hold it up any longer. There was a howl of anger and Allura was blasted again with another burst of violent magic, sending her skidding backwards over the uneven ground, flipping her so she was facing the stars above.

The smoke from the fires around her drifted upwards, curling around each other and dancing in the wind, obscuring the stars in the inky black sky with their slim grey fingers. It was all she could see as pain coursed through her body again, making her limbs twitch and her head pound like a drum beat while black spots danced in her vision.

A figure entered her line of sight and the altean had to blink a few times before her vision cleared and they came into focus. They wore long purple robes over a hunched figure, a hood with a golden sigil on the front concealing their face and white long hair fell down their shoulders. The most harrowing thing about them was their glowing yellow eyes, which glared out at her from the shadows cast by the hood, holding so much hatred and anger that Allura could feel it penetrating her very soul. This creature is what lead the galra. What orchestrated the attack. This was Haggar, Emperor Zarkon’s most trusted Shade.

A weak laugh spilt over Allura’s lips, but it seemed to echo throughout the clearing, making the galra take a nervous step backwards.  
“You’re too late.” She stated as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, staring up at Haggar with defiance in her eyes. “Zarkon will _never_ have those eggs.”

  
The glowing eyes glared at her with hatred so intense that it rivaled the sun. Letting out a snarl, the Shade lifted a purple clawed hand that crackled with magic, and Allura faded into darkness.

 

Haggar stood over the unconscious elf, looking down at her with a snarl of disgust twisted on her lips. The eggs were gone, the saddlebags empty and she had no idea where the whelp had sent them. The Shade let out a screech of fury, turning away from the elf and towards the pack of galra that stood whimpering at the edge of the clearing, trying to avoid her gaze. However, as soon as she clapped eyes on them they scattered like insects, the stench of their fear overpowering in her nose as they raced towards the only section of the clearing that wasn’t on fire, trying to escape the inevitable. They didn’t get far.

Haggar snapped her arms out towards the group and bolts of purple magic struck each one dead, leaving their corpses smouldering on the forest floor. Her rage pierced the night as she swore up at the heavens, screaming curses in a language as old and as evil as herself.

She turned back to the elf with a snarl and stared down at her face again. Even with blood splattered over her, her pink cheek marks were still glowing brightly despite the harsh shadows cast on her by the flames around them, and her white hair had escaped the bun atop her head leaving strands to curl around her face. The beauty of Alteans was always otherworldly, but it had no effect on her as it would have done on mortals.

Grasping the elf’s shirt in one hand, she lifted her up and the Shade gathered her magic around her, filling the air with the taste of static and uttered a string of words which teleported them to where the Shade’s horse was hidden further in the trees. After strapping the elf to the saddle, she climbed on after and rode away into the night, leaving the forest to burn behind her.

~

Miles and miles away, four differently coloured eggs appeared with explosions in the night, changing the course of four different lives, and the world, forever.


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is found, and something is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd get this updated today and I actually managed to do it holy hell

Lance Álvarez had always loved the ocean.

Ever since he had been young, the ocean had been his favourite place to be. Whenever his father had taken him out on the fishing boat he’d always wondered what it would be like to slip into the water and swim downwards, to spend all day beneath the waves with the schools fish and the whales that they’d sometimes see in the winter. Now he was older he knew it was impossible to live under the sea, but even now as he listened to the rumble of the ocean from where he was stood high up on a cliff, he still felt that unexplainable pull towards its depths.

The moonlight shone down, illuminating the darkness with it’s pale light while the constellations scattered across the night sky gleamed brightly. It would have been too dark for anyone else to see a safe way down the cliff and to the cove at its base, but Lance knew the route like the back of his hand, quickly making his way down the familiar path to the bottom where the ground quickly turned from stone to sand beneath his feet.

When he reached the beach at the bottom, he stopped a good distance from where the sea met the sand, putting down his bow and taking off his quiver. He lead them next to each other on the ground before placing down his pack with care as it contained the meat from his hunt.

 

Lance had been out in the Spine for almost a week now, having been tracking a herd of deer, and since he had finally seen the opportunity and shot one, he was able to return home with enough meat to help feed his family. The main source of food in his village was mainly fish, and even then it depended on how much the fishermen were able to catch, so a little fresh venison was always greatly appreciated.

He toed off his shoes and left them by his bag, wandering over to the cluster of rock pools which crowded against the the left side of the cove, leaving footprints in his wake. The full moon cast a bright glow over the cove, making the small pools of water shine like silver. A salty breeze blew, bringing with it the sound of the softly crashing waves, making Lance shiver ever so slightly.

He made it to the first tidepool, crouching down on the rock next to it as he examined its contents, blue eyes searching through the darkness for the limpets which usually clung to the uneven sides. Even though he only hunted for his family Lance always made sure to stop and collect them for Aada, who used them in a soup. He never understood how but they grey haired woman always managed to make the disgusting things into a delicious broth, which always helped when the winter sickness blew in with the icy sea wind.

When he didn’t spot any in the pool he was crouched over he stood and moved onto another, repeating the process again. Lance did this with all the rockpools, prying the limpets he found off the walls with his hunting knife and a swift practiced movement, before wrapping them tightly in a cloth which he then slipped into his pocket.

Moving onto one of the biggest pools near the sea’s edge, Lance carefully made his way around the slippery rock, crouching and using his hands to help stop him from falling into the cold water. After bracing his feet against the edge, he balanced in his crouch and dipped his hand into the pool of shallow water, grasping the limpet he’d spotted and sliding his knife between the hard shell and the rock it stubbornly clung to. The limpet refused to come off, suctioning to the side of the pool even harder than before. Lance clenched his teeth as he tried again, to no avail.

“Oh come on!” He mumbled in frustration, lowering the knife to try again for the third time when the night was split open with the sound of an explosion and a blast of white light.

Lance fell backwards in shock, scraping his spine and plunging his arm into a tidepool to keep himself from tipping over even more. His heart pounded wildly against his ribcage, threatening to burst out of his chest. Steam swirled into the air from the rockpool ahead of him. A faint hiss was the only noise which could be heard. He remained frozen in place, barely daring to move as he waited for something else to happen. His shaky breathing and trembling arm being the only indication that he hadn’t just been turned to stone.

Lance waited.

After a few minutes of nothing stirring, he slid his knife back into its sheath at his hip and pushed himself upright, flicking the water from his arm as he pulled it out from the pool. He was glad he decided to roll up his sleeves before he started, otherwise he would have been sleeping with a wet shirt. Tentatively he leaned forward and took in the sight in front of him, his eyes growing wide at what he found.

There was no water left remaining in the rockpool, all of it having disapperated into steam. Even the sides of the stone had been scorched black from the impact of the blast, harsh cracks radiating outwards from it’s centre. Lance had a feeling if he reached out to touch it the stone would be hot to the point of burning under his fingers.

However he wasn’t bothered about that, as his whole undivided attention was now held by the vibrant blue stone which now lay in the middle of the rockpool.

It was about a foot and and a half in length and oval in shape, with veins of white and darker blue running through its surface, constellations of pale dots spattered around. He hadn’t seen anything like it before. The stone was flawless despite the impact it had made, and when he reached out and pressed a finger to its surface he found it to be incredibly smooth to touch.

Lance crouched at the edge of the pool and slipped his hands under the stone, lifting it from the rockpool and into the cool night air. It was lighter than what he had expected, but even then it still weighed a few pounds. He rapped his knuckles against the surface gently, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as it produced a hollow noise.

 _An empty rock?_ He thought, staring incredulously at the blue stone in his hands. _That’s impossible._ But when he remembered how it had appeared, he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. Magic was a powerful force, and it’s users could perform feats of great wonder, and terror, if the stories were anything to go by.

But Lance couldn’t help but  remain in awe of the stone.Why was it here? Where did it come from? What was he meant to do with it?

The stone didn’t give him any answers, only laying motionless in his hands, the moonlight causing the white swirls and speckles to gleam in the darkness.

Lance rose to his feet, having to tear his eyes away from the stone as he carefully made his way back to the beach, clutching it tightly to his chest as he made his way over the uneven rocks. When he reached his bag, he glanced around the cove to make sure no one was watching him from the darkness. He knew it was pointless since no one but himself knew about the cove, but he made a quick check anyway. For some reason he felt like the stone was important - no, he was certain it was - so he kept it close, deciding to bring it with him.

After making sure he was alone, he got to his knees beside the bag and slipped the stone inside, nestling it snugly between two pieces of tightly cloth bound meat from his hunt. Lance clambered to his feet again, brushing the sand from his pants and grabbing his boots, quickly rinsing his feet in the nearest rockpool before pulling them on. He slung his quiver over his back and looked up at the moon, still illuminating the night sky, seeming completely unaware of what had just occurred below her watchful gaze. He wondered if the person who sent the stone was also stood under the same moon.

Leaning down he grabbed the rest of his possessions and wandered over to the cave in the right hand wall of the cove, deciding that it was too late to head home right now and that he would spend the night here instead, not wanting to wake his family with his arrival.

Lance had slept in the cave before, having known about this cove and all of its hidden secrets for years, so he made his way forward, ducking through the small opening and into the large space behind. Near the back wall was a small natural alcove that had been carved into the wall by the ocean years ago, offering shelter from the elements as well as being the perfect size for a person to curl up in.

He spread out his bedroll and placed his things on a flat rock nearby, making sure nothing would roll of or get wet during the night before he settled in and wrapped himself in blankets. Lance closed his eyes, finally letting the exhaustion from a day of hunting catch up with him, and within moments he was asleep.

 

He dreamt of bright flashes of white magic, dark violet eyes, and the entire raging ocean contained in the center of a stone.

 

\-----------------

 

Early the next morning Lance awoke to the sound of the sea rhythmically lapping at the beach outside the cave, sunlight streaming in through the mouth. He got up, stretching with a yawn and cracking his neck, relieved to find himself well rested. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes he spotted his pack on the rock where he had left it hours before, and the memories from the previous night flooded his mind. Getting to his feet, he walked over to the pack and pulled it open, half expecting the stone to have vanished in the night as quick as it had arrived, but it was still there, nestled between the packs of meat.

 Lance tapped it with his finger, reassuring himself that it was actually there, and not some hallucination his brain had conjured from exhaustion. He let out a small breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and turned back around, packing up his things in preparation for the journey home.

 Leaving the cove, he wandered down the familiar animal tracks that weaved through The Spine, twisting through the underbrush and listening to the song of the birds high in the branches overhead. There was only forest between the cove and his village, something Lance was forever grateful for, because the mountains that made up The Spine were treacherous to navigate if you weren't used to them, unlike himself. He’d been exploring and hunting in The Spine for years now, the only one of his family brave enough to do so.

It was dangerous enough, but ever since Emperor Zarkon marched his forces into the mountains and returned with only half, rumours of what lead within began to spread even faster. Lance’s family worried about him, it was hard not to when they were brought up on stories of what happened to people who became lost in The Spine, but he knew his way around and how to keep safe in its depths.

 

He spotted his village after an hour of slow but steady walking, as the trees around the tracks disappeared and he found his way onto a more familiar footpath.

Narda was a large village, surrounded by a high wall to keep out wild animals and protect it from attack, although Lance couldn’t really imagine who would want to invade the fishing village in the first place. Clusters of stone houses were dotted around, and the harbour was filled with a range of fishing boats and large barges, bobbing in the water. As usual it bustled with life, the familiar sights and sounds washing over Lance, relaxing him and relieving the tension from his shoulders. Smoke drifted from the chimneys and the sounds of the people floated up to the hill where he was stood, making a smile grow on his face. There was no place like home.

Making his way down the path, he quickly found himself on the road that lead to and from the village, striding towards the open gates. He headed past the two guards who stood watch and muscle memory kicked in, leading him down back alleys and behind houses, avoiding the people on the streets.

It only took him a few minutes of walking before he reached his own house. It was wide and low built, made from grey stone and the dark wood from the trees of the forest. The kitchen windows were open and he could hear voices coming from inside, so he pushed open the front door and walked in. Instantly he was hit with the smell of home. Fresh lavender from the garden hung in the windows and a pile of clothes were set on the table, filling the house with the clean smell of flowers and a faint hint of soap.

“I’m back!” Lance called into the house as he set down his bow and quiver, and the talking stopped. In the kitchen doorway appeared his mother, sleeves rolled up past her elbows and her dark brown hair pulled into a braid down her back. Her blue eyes twinkled when she saw him and she grinned before striding forward and pulling Lance into a tight hug which he returned with just as much strength.

“It’s good to have you home.” She said warmly, reaching up to plant a kiss on his temple as they hugged.

Lance couldn’t help but laugh into her shoulder at the motion. “I was only gone a few days.”

“Yes, but still,” she said, pulling away and looking him up and down before meeting his eyes. “You know I worry about you when you’re in that forest.”

“I know, but I’m always careful, I promise.” He reassured her, taking the pack off his back. “Besides, I caught something, see.” As he spoke he pulled out one of the wrapped pieces of meat, presenting it to his mother. Another smile crossed her face as she took the package from him, before his attention was diverted to the person who emerged from the kitchen.  

“What was it, a squirrel or a rabbit?” His older brother Luis joked, a smile on his face.

“It was a deer, actually.” Lance defended as he made his way over to him, also pulling him into a hug.

 When they pulled away, Luis kept his arm slung around Lance’s shoulder, grinning at him. “I’m glad you’re back.” He told him, which made Lance smile in return. “Thanks, so am I.”

He’d missed this, his family, even if it had only been a few days. Lance relaxed around the pair, glad to be back.

“And what’s this?” Luis then asked, pulling the side of his bag open with his finger so he could peer curiously at the stone inside.

 Ah, the hadn’t missed the incessant snooping though.

Lance looked down at the polished blue surface, quickly debating with himself on whether to tell them what had happened or not. He felt the sudden and unexplainable need to lie spring out of nowhere, almost unnatural in how powerful it was. Lance then found himself talking.

“It's some sort of sea glass, I think.” He told Luis, glancing once more at the bag before closing it, hiding the stone from sight. “I'm probably going to try and sell it to the traders when they come, see if it's worth anything.”

Luis raised an eyebrow at him, mouth curling into a small but playful grin. “It looks expensive….You didn’t steal it did you?”

Lance shot him a look. “Who could I have possibly stolen it from?” He told him. “Besides, shouldn't you be at work right now?”

Luis only laughed and ruffled his hair, taking his arm from around his shoulders as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckled, before returning back into the room, a small bag clutched in his hand. “Father forgot his hooks,” he explained, “I was getting them for him.”

Luis leant down and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I better get going. I’ll tell him and Rachel you’re back though.”  He said before heading towards the front door. “We’ll see you later!” He raised his hand in farewell before opening the door and disappearing from view as it swung closed behind him.

 After turning back to face his mother, Lance realized there was still one family member he hadn’t heard about yet. “Where’s Veronica?” He asked as his mother deposited the meat onto the kitchen table, Lance following close behind.

A smile soft crossed her face at the mention of her daughter. “Veronica spent last night at Rowen’s, she probably won’t be back until later.”

Lance blinked in surprise. “So they’re getting serious?”

His mother nodded. “She told me they’re thinking of Veronica moving in with her.”

“Wait, really? That’s great!” Lance grinned, feeling himself slip back into the normality of his home life.

 

After that they spent a while talking about what Lance had missed over the past few days, which turned out to be not a lot at all, which didn't really surprise him. As much as he loved his village, nothing ever really interesting happened here.

His mother ended the conversation when she turned back to the table, rubbing her hands together. “Right now that you’re back, you can help me with the chores.” And that was that.

Lance spent the remainder of his day doing jobs around the house and helping his mother cook, until the rest of the family got home. Rachel had pulled him into a tight hug before trapping him in a headlock, messing up his curly hair with a laugh while Veronica watched on with a smile. His father just hugged him, clapping him on the back with a weather worn hand. Dinner was a lively affair, as usual, but more so now that Lance was back in the house.

 

At the end of the night he climbed up to his room and flopped down on his bed with a satisfied groan, closing his eyes and relishing in how soft the mattress felt in comparison to the bed roll he’d used for the past few days. He opened his eyes and spotted his pack, which he had brought up before the rest of the family got home. Getting up, he picked it up from where it was lead on the floor and pulled it open, removing the stone. After examining it again, he placed it on the shelf opposite his bed, where he kept a few books his oldest brother Marco had brought him from where he lived in Teirm. Lance then got ready for bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing into his sleep clothes before he then clambered under his sheets and fell asleep, glad to finally be home and safe.

 

\-----------------

 

Lance woke suddenly from his sleep.

He quickly sat upright in his bed, peering through the quiet darkness of his room, wondering what could have woken him up at this hour. After a few moments of looking and finding nothing he settled back down, coming to the conclusion that he was still on high alert from his trip into the Spine. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep again, pulling the blankets back up to his chin.

He was just on the edge of slipping back into unconsciousness when a crack pierced the silence. Lance’s shot open and he barely dared to breathe, straining his ears as he tried to locate the source of the sound. After a few moments of nothing, there was another crack, accompanied by a loud squeak. Lance sat up and reached for the candle beside his bed, lighting it with deft fingers and blinked as the room was cast into light by the small fire.

Nothing was different.

There weren't any telltale pitter-patters of rats or mice, and no sign that anything was amiss. He waited, heart beating loudly, until there was another squeak, a crack and a faint thump. A brief flash of movement caught his eye, and Lance’s head snapped towards the shelf where the stone sat, reflections from the candle lights dancing on its surface, and he stared. Nothing moved, until, with a peep, the stone rocked backwards, hitting the wall with a thud.

 

Lance leapt from his bed, kicking the covers away and slowly approached the shelf where the stone sat wobbling. Just as he reached his hands out to grasp it, the stone squeaked again and shook more violently, hitting the wall behind it repetitively.

Not wanting the noise to wake anyone up, Lance grabbed the egg, which vibrated steadily in his hands and quickly deposited it onto his bed, instinctively taking a few steps backwards.

The stone continued to squeak and crack, the rocking becoming more and more intense until it was virtually rolling around the bed by its own accord. Lance hoped the wall were thick enough to muffle the incessant noise.

There was a final cheep, louder than the others and it came to rest in the center of his bed, unmoving. It was then that Lance saw the faint cobwebs of cracks marring it’s surface, all crisscrossing and weaving about. He stood transfixed as a piece of the stone broke away, falling on the bed, only to be quickly followed by a second, and then a third. Bits of the stone chipped away until there was a hole in the side, from which a small nose pushed its way out.

The nose was followed by a head, then a long neck, and the stone - no, the _egg_ \-  finally broke open when the creature forced the rest of its body out and onto the bed.

 It’s hide was a deep sapphire blue, matching the broken pieces of the shell, and its eyes were a dazzling yellow. A thin tail lined with ivory spikes curled around itself and wings, several sizes larger than its body, unfurled from its back and flapped twice before settling closed again. It shook itself free of the straggling remains of the membrane it had been encased in before stretching out its neck and scanning the room, bright eyes glowing ever so faintly.

 

He moved ever so slightly and the creature snapped its head around, fixating on him with a hypnotic stare. Lance didn’t even dare breathe, remaining as still as physically possible, for on his bed sat a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to come and talk to me you can find me here at my tumblr [here](http://cimderslla.tumblr.com/) and if you want you can check out the Legacy Of A Rider tag there to see some art I posted of the dragons!!


	3. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conundrum arises, and decisions are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been six months but I can explain I promise.  
> I've just finished my final year of high school so I've been revising and doing exams all year, but now i'm done I should have more time to write now!!  
> Anyway, enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!

The wind blew outside, gliding past the shutters, whispers of long dead souls and ancients secrets filling the night air. The candle flickered on the nightstand, casting shadows across the room, painting the walls with shapes of light from the fire.

The dragon stared.

After a few long, torturous moments, the dragon narrowed it’s eyes and let out a high pitched squeak. Lance didn't dare move, held in place by those golden eyes, even as it appeared to quickly lose interest in him, choosing to hop down from the bed on wobbly legs and make its way around the room, tail swiping across the floor as it went. He turned and watched as it clumsily wandered around, unable to be anything but completely fascinated with the small creature.

The stone was an egg. A _dragon_ egg.

He stepped backwards until he felt his knees hit the mattress behind him, and sat down heavily, only narrowly missing the pile of broken shell that was now scattered on his blanket.

As the dragon sniffed around his room, it let out small noises at the things it encountered, squealing when it found his nightstand and chirping at the sight of the shelf. It’s large wings, which seemed out of proportion for something so small, snapped out in surprise when after a prod from its nose, Lance’s bag slipped down onto the floor with a thump, from where it had been previously leaning against the wall.

It continued like this for a good few minutes, stumbling occasionally as it tripped over its own tail, which flicked around behind it, growing more energetic the more it discovered. Eventually it turned back to the bed, and with a small leap, hopped up beside Lance, who hadn’t moved at all.

The dragon prowled in a circle like a cat, yawning and showing off rows of small gleaming white teeth before it settled down, lifting its wings so it could get properly comfortable, before turning and looking at Lance, head tilted in a curious manner. He turned towards it slowly, treating it as he would a wild animal in the Spine, wary of its gaze, but not wanting to frighten it away.

It let out a small peep, golden eyes looking up at him with curiosity, and lance couldn't help but smile out of the pure ridiculousness of the situation. There was a _dragon_ sat on his bed.

Cautiously lifting up his hand as not to startle the creature, he offered it out, letting the dragon sniff at his sleeve, before it began to nibble at the cuff with it’s small teeth. He chuckled and pulled his hand away before it did any damage to the fabric, keeping it within the dragon’s sight. It only fluttered it’s wings again, still staring at him with its bright golden eyes.  
Feeling more confident, Lance lifted up his hand again, letting the dragon sniff at his knuckles, the puff of warm air tickling his skin.  
He opened his hand and ran his palm gently over the top of the dragon’s head.

What felt like a blast of ice shot through his hand and up into his arm, causing him to jerk backwards instinctively, pain erupting from his palm. It was like he was being frozen and burned at the exact same time, the unnatural concoction racing unstoppable through his veins, fingers spasming wildly. The pain was almost unbearable, and his muscles locked up, rendering him unable to move.

It could have been seconds, or maybe hours, Lance couldn't tell, before movement began to gradually return to his limbs. When he opened his eyes it took him a few moments of wondering why everything was now sideways before he realised he’d fallen on the floor, crumpled in a ball next to his bed. It took a few minutes before he felt like he could move properly, but he managed to push himself up onto his elbow, shivering uncontrollably. He still couldn't feel his left arm at all.

Sitting up took some effort as his arms shook and threatened to give out from beneath him, but he managed to sit upright, leaning against the bed behind him for support. A tingling sensation began to creep back into the fingers of his left hand, and his palm throbbed along with the beating of his heart, a heavy and frequent melody that sent small flashes of pain up his arm.

Looking down at his hand, he was shocked by what he saw. Where there had once been tanned brown skin, weathered and calloused from years of clutching his bow and helping out on the fishing boats, there was now a large silvery mark on his palm where he had touched the dragon.

The skin was slightly raised, almost like a healing scar, and it gleamed slightly in the soft candlelight. It’s shape was the strangest thing about it, twisting and unnatural, but after staring at it for a few moments, Lance realised that it took the shape of a dragon, curled around itself with its wings stretched outwards into the air, forming a ‘V’ shape. He ran his fingers over the mark and found it smooth to the touch.

Beside him, there was a soft noise, and when he turned to look, he found that the dragon had jumped down from the bed and was now stood next to his knee, head tilted to the side slightly. Its wide golden eyes were fixated on him, following his every movement, and it’s tail swayed behind it slowly, flicking upwards occasionally.

It almost looked... _concerned_.

 

That’s when he felt it.

Something unfamiliar, something alien brushed up against his consciousness, a sensation he’d never experienced before.

Lance’s eyes widened at the feeling, jerking back from the presence in his mind, trying to get as far away from it as possible, until it returned stronger, gently pushing this time. His heartbeat calmed down as he grew accustomed to its presence, not retreating as he had done before, but not exploring it either, until a third nudge came, sending a shiver down his spine.

There was a slight pause, before he began to sense new and unfamiliar emotions.

Curiosity.  
Concern.  
And a powerful hunger.

It took him a few seconds before he linked it together. These weren’t his own emotions, but the dragon’s instead.

Lance closed his mouth, swallowing slightly as he processed this information. It had felt like something that had been surrounding his mind his entire life had gone, leaving his consciousness open to the world. He was aware of far more around him, as if he could finally see clearly for the first time. The vastness he sensed scared him.

The dragon him chirped again, pulling him out of his thoughts and placing him back in the moment at hand.

“Are you hungry?” He asked it, and the feeling only increased in its intensity. Despite everything that had just happened, he found himself chuckling at the dragon as it sat up straight again, head raised to attention, nose sniffing the air as if the mere mention of food brought the smell into the room.

Lance rose to his knees. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you some food.”  
It tilted its head again but remained looking at him expectantly, letting out a soft peep as it did so.

Running it through his head, Lance wasn’t sure if he trusted the dragon in its own yet and he didn't want it waking up the house if it continued to make too much noise, so he came to a quick conclusion.

He held his hands out cautiously towards the dragon. “You’re not going to shock me again if I touch you, are you?” He asked.  
As if in response to his question, the dragon pressed it’s snout up against his fingers with a small huff. Lance flinched slightly, but when he felt no agonising pain like he had the first time, he relaxed. Only a small shiver traveled up his palm from where it’s snout touched his skin.  
With a grin, he moved forward and scooped up the dragon, cradling it in his arms gently. As he stood, legs shaking slightly from the aftershocks of the pain, the dragon shifted, making itself more comfortable and turned its head towards the door, eager to see where they were heading.

Opening the door to the hallway, Lance crept down the stairs and into the kitchen, expertly avoiding the creaking floorboards, and swiped two bits of meat from the pantry before returning to his room as quickly as he had come down.

He sat back on the bed after closing the door, placing the blue dragon back onto his pillow before grabbing bis hunting knife from its sheath and cutting it up into smaller bites. Scratching the smooth scales at the dragon’s neck, he offered it a slice, watching in wonder as it snapped its head forwards like a snake, swallowing it quickly after a few chews with its small teeth.

It did this with all the slices until it lead down and curled up around itself, obviously full. The dragon let out a small chirp, a white puff of smoke blowing from it’s nostrils as it nestled down onto the pillow. He couldn't help but wonder when it would begin breathing fire.

Now that it was still, Lance could inspect the dragon more closely. The soft light from the candle did little to fully brighten the room, but Lance could see well enough, his eyes used to darkness.

It had a row of stubby ivory spines along the side of its jaw and two small ones at the bottom of its chin. The scales on the front of its neck and chest were as blue as the darkest parts of its shell, and it had swooping markings on its face in the same deep shade. Two small blue spines ran up its forehead, the one at the front smaller in size than the one behind, and it had a pair of strange protrusions which resembled horns coming up from the top of it’s head that curled upwards slightly. The small spines ran all the way down its back, ending just before a rudder like finn at the end of its tail.  
It was beautiful.

As he watched, the dragon’s eyes drooped shut and it’s breathing slowed, but not before it curled it’s tail tightly around his wrist, clinging onto him like a lifeline on a boat adrift at sea.  
With a small smile, Lance leant over to his nightstand and blew out his candle, casting the room into darkness once more.

Laying back in his bed, the blankets pulled back up to his waist with a dragon on his pillow beside him, Lance couldn't help but wonder - _why him_? Why did the dragon hatch for him? Who even sent it in the first place?

Question after question swarmed around in his mind, an unrelenting buzz in the quiet of night, but one thought was far more prevalent than any of the others.  
By having this dragon hatch for him, it meant that he was a Rider.

 

Everyone knew the stories.

Just over a thousand years ago, the Dragon Riders were more than legend, they were real. Voltron had been the protectors of Alagaësia, a mighty force of five dragon riders, lead by none other than Zarkon himself. The group had served together for years, protecting the land and its people, becoming so close that they called each other family, but it had all changed when Zarkon betrayed them. Gathering his forces, he had lain waste to Alagaësia, slaughtering all who stood against him and enslaving the rest. The others Riders had tried to stop him, but he was too powerful, and killed them and their dragons. He crowned himself Emperor and had been ruling ever since.

If the Empire found out that Lance was a rider, he would be forced to join Zarkon, or both him and his family would be killed. He couldn’t let that happen. He would have to raise the dragon, in secret, so no one would find out. Lance trusted his family, but they were superstitious and knew the threat of the Empire far too well. He was afraid they would make him abandon the dragon, or worse. He knew he couldn’t take that risk, he needed to protect this dragon, and he would do anything to do so.

The tail tightened ever so slightly around his wrist, pulling him out of his thoughts. Beside him, the dragon was still sleeping, nestled against his arm. It had just hatched, yet it had eaten two large strips of meat, and he realised that it’s appetite would only grow as it did. He couldn’t keep it in the house, there were too many people here and it would quickly be discovered, so he needed a place where it would stay safe, but hidden. Somewhere only he knew about.  
He thought for a while, before it hit him.

The cove.

He would take it in the morning, he decided, before pulling the dragon closer to him and falling asleep to the soft sound of it’s breathing, and the gentle blowing of the wind outside his window.

\------------

Lance woke up in the morning to find the dragon perched on his bed frame, staring down at him with a tilted head. Sun streamed through a crack in his shutters, casting the room aglow with golden light, reflecting off the scales and dotting the walls with a multitude of blue.

As he sat up with a yawn, the dragon hopped down onto his shoulder, curling around his neck and rubbing its face against his chin like a cat, the smooth texture feeling strange under his skin.

Lance chuckled at it’s actions, scratching the side of it’s neck as it rumbled under his fingers. “Well good morning to you too.”

As the dragon let out another low noise, he felt the mental connection again. The dragon seemed to be content at the moment, but he felt the creeping sensation of hunger again as well as a growing curiosity to see what was outside, the sounds of the active village streaming in past the shutters.  
He glanced to the door, which was closed, and was grateful that his family let him sleep in after he got back from a hunt instead of waking him up early in the morning like usual, as they surely would have walked in and saw the dragon. That would have been the end of everything.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lance watched as the dragon leapt from his shoulders, snapped open its wings and glided around the room in a wide arc, landing gracefully near the door before turning back towards him expectedly, as if it knew they were going to be leaving.

Lance knew he needed to get the dragon out of the house, and the village, without being seen, but he had no idea how to do so. People used the backstreets almost as commonly as the main ones, so taking it through them would be too obvious, they could be seen. The wall surrounding Narda was climbable, but people would see him in the middle of the day, and that would be hard to explain. What he needed was a way to get the dragon out of the village without it being spotted by anyone. It needed to be hidden.

As he got dressed, a plan began to formulate in his mind.  
From under his bed he pulled out some spare winter blankets and folded them up, before grabbing his bag from where it was lead on the floor and placed them in the bottom. From its place by the door, the dragon sat and watched as he did so, head tilted to the side.

When he was done, Lance turned back to the dragon. “Okay, you’re going to have to be very quiet for a few minutes.” He told it, scooping it up in his arms. The dragon let out a small squeak in reply, and Lance was hit with the realisation that it might not understand what he said.

He glanced back down at the dragon, which was staring up at him with its wide golden eyes, and sighed, dropping a kiss to the top of it’s head. “I’m really sorry about this.” He told it.

 

A few minutes later he way hurrying down the stairs, pack slung over his back securely. He looked around, peering into the kitchen and making sure that no one was home before grabbing more meat out of the pantry and slipping out of the door.

Immediately he was hit with the smell of fish and the clamouring of daily life. The wind blew through his hair, sticking his face as he heard the sounds of shouts from the docks which echoed down the streets as he walked, the bustle of people walking and chatting, scatterings of laughter and a faint voice singing, the faint crashing of the seas only adding to the constant noise.

As Lance hurried forward, he stuck to the quickest path out, which lead him right down the main streets through the village. Around him, people he’d known all his life mingled and hurried and worked.

His mother’s best friend Rosanna smiled at him as he passed, not stopping as she made her way up the street with a basket on her hip, her thirteen year old son following with his arms ladened in folded clothes. _Repairs_ , Lance thought, as they disappeared into the crowd.  
Rosanna and his mother were the seamstresses of the village, running their business out of the front room of Rosanna’s strangely wide house, and whenever anyone needed anything fixed, altered or made, they went to them.

As he made his way forward, the main stables came up on his left, and he saw William, one of his friends, brushing down a dappled mare. When he spotted Lance he grinned and put down the brush, calling out to him. “Oi Lance, how was hunting?”

Lance tightened his grip on the straps of his bag but changed his trajectory, walking closer to the stables as he moved. “It was good! I shot a deer this time.”

William just crossed his arms and leant back against the wall beside him. “Yeah you always shoot deers.” He laughed, blowing a curly strand of hair out of his face. “Do you want to come down to the beach later? We’ve missed you, and I want to know more about this deer that caused you to vanish for a week.”

Lance chuckled, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he kept walking. “I’m sorry, I can't today, I’m busy.”

William nodded, a slight look of disappointment crossing his face. “Well alright, another day then?”

“Another day.” Lance agreed, before lifting a hand goodbye as he vanished around the corner, and William was obscured from sight.

A few more minutes slid by before he passed in front of the butchers, the scent of fresh meat wafting out of the open windows and into the street, and he flinched, hurrying forward when the pack on his back wriggled. He picked up his pace and soon found himself in the main square at the center of the village.

Different stalls lined the edges of the square, each selling their own wares to the people that milled around. To his left, he spotted Rowan manning her own stall, her vibrant red hair standing out from the muted colours around her. She spotted him through the crowd and raised an hand in acknowledgement, a smile on her face. He did the same before slipping his hand back under the strap of the bag before he quickly moved on.

Soon after that he reached the edge of town, walking through the gates with a nod to the guards before disappearing into the forest.

 

When he was far enough from the village he took off the pack and opened it, only to come face to face with the dragon. It glared at him with golden eyes before leaping out of the pack and onto his shoulders, smacking him in the face with its tail as it did so.

“Hey!” Lance protested as it wound its way around his neck, decidedly not looking at him. “I’m sorry, okay, but it was the only way I could get you out with no one seeing you!”  
The dragon just settled on his shoulder, turning it’s head away, and he could feel it’s slight annoyance through the bond. With a slight sigh, Lance put the pack on his back again and continued into the forest.

It wasn't long, however, before the annoyance quickly changed into wonder and curiosity as the dragon took in the sight around them. Trees towers above them, the clustered leaves allowing dappled bits of sunlight to creep through onto the ground ahead of them, and birds sun high in the branched, filling the air with their sweet melodies.

Lance could feel the dragons desire to join them, to fly into the air and soar with the wind, but he placed a hand on its leg, trying to send the impression that it needed to stay with him. He wasn't even sure if the bond went both ways, but the dragon remained on his shoulder as he continued walking nevertheless, tail curling around the side of Lance’s neck almost like a reassurance.

As he walked deeper into the Spine, Lance began to talk to the dragon. There really wasn't much else to do, and he wasn't even sure if the dragon could understand him, but he did so anyway, trying to convey the important parts through the bond. He talked about himself, his family, the Spine. He told it of the ocean, the different schools of fish he would see when out on the boats, his favourite hunting spots, hidden clearings in the forest where herds of deers would often stop to rest, the pack of seals that often took refuge in the cove during the winter months, and everything he knew about the forest.  
While he spoke, the dragon sat with its head tilted to the side, chirping at certain points in his stories, almost as if agreeing with what he said.

Lance walked quickly, aware that he needed to get back to the village soon to avoid suspicion, but he also wanted to spend as much time with the dragon as possible, a fast bond already forming between the pair.

 

It wasn't long before they reached the cove, the sounds of the sea crashing against the beach hitting their ears. The dragon sat up straight from where it had been looped lazily around his shoulders and chirped inquisitively at the water below them. Lance couldn't help but smile at its reaction.

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” He told the dragon, reaching up and scratching under its chin. The dragon hummed under his fingers, golden eyes flickering closed, blue scales glittering like jewels in the sunlight.

The cove always looked far more different in the daylight, he noted as he made his way down the trail to the beach. The tide was out, thankfully, meaning that even more rock pools were on display than the night before, the water reflecting the blue of the sky, making it seem like little pieces of the heavens had fallen to earth and made their home here.

He kicked his boots off and dropped his pack onto the ground, digging his feet into the warm sand. The dragon let out a loud chirp and jumped down to the floor, testing the sand with swipe of it’s paw. Lance stood and watched as the dragon made its way across the sand, sniffing at it and pushing it around with its tail curiously.

He settled down, crossing his legs as it began to roll around, digging its wings into the sand and sending sprays of it everywhere as it ungracefully wiggled around. A laugh escaped his mouth as the dragon shoved its nose into the ground and snorted, before lifting its head and shaking it, smoke billowing from it’s nose as it tried to rid its nostrils of the sand there.

“Okay, okay.” He laughed, standing and picking the dragon up around its middle as it let out a high pitched sneeze. Bringing it over to one of the larger rock pool, he crouched down by its side and gently placed the dragon into the water, tying to wash the sand from its body.

To his complete horror, the dragon let out a delighted noise as soon as its feet touched the water and broke free of his grasp, diving down into the pool with a cacophony of noises.

Lance felt panic surge up in him as soon as the dragon submerged itself and he jerked forward to try and grab it again, but it wiggled away from his hands deeper into the pool, tail swishing behind it as it went. He leant forward, heart hammering in his chest as he watched as the dragon blew bubbles from its nose and swam around the bottom of the pool, seeming completely at ease in the water. It’s tail directed it around, the rudder at the end allowing it to make sharp twists and turns while it swam.

After a long while, longer than he expected, it’s head resurfaced and the dragon turned to look with an excited noise at Lance, who was staring at it with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Huh.” He stated as the dragon glided up the the edge and pulled itself out before wandering up to him, tail swaying side to side happily.

Of all the things he’d expected of the dragon, loving water wasn’t one of them.

Shaking his head, he scooped up the dragon again, not bothering that his shirt became damp with the water form it’s scales, and headed back to the beach, expertly stepping around the multitude of rock pools. He grabbed his pack, slinging it over a shoulder before turning and making his way over to the cave.

Ducking in past the overhang of rock, he made his way to the back of the cave to where the small alcove he’d slept in was located and placed the dragon down on the rock beside it. It shook itself free of the water before sitting down, folding its wings tightly and curling its tail around itself, watching as Lance got to work.

He opened his bag and pulled out the blankets, along with the handfuls of ferns and leaves he had gathered on the way, and began constructing a nest for the dragon. He placed the blankets down first, building up the sides so the center was concaved, stuffing the leaves between layers of blankets to soften the nest and to keep it insulated.

After a few minutes he stepped back, admiring his handiwork.  
Beside him, the dragon had hopped down from the rock and crept closer to see what he had been doing, and when he turned to face it, it sat down and looked at him expectantly.

“What do you think?” He asked it, hands on his hips.

In reply, the dragon took a large jump and hopped up onto the edge of the alcove, sniffing at the blankets curiously before turning back to Lance with a small noise, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. He picked it up by the middle and gently deposited the dragon doen into the nest, where it prodded at the blankets for a few moments with its feet before settling down.

Lance then crouched down next to it, fussing with the blankets a little bit more before scratching at the side of the dragons face, where it let out a rumble and pushed its face against his hand.

“You’re going to have to stay here, okay?” He told it, implying the message through the bond, as he took the strips of meat out of the bag and placed it inside of the nest. The dragon made a noise of delight and quickly snapped it up, chewing at it with its sharp little teeth.

He couldn’t keep the dragon anywhere else, and the cave was the only place that offered any shelter in the cove, but he worried about the dragon. It was so small, and it didn't know the dangers of the world yet, so he was scared that something could happen to it when he was gone. He needed to go home though, before anyone noticed that he had been gone for so long and began suspecting something.

Lance told the dragon to stay agan, sending it a mental image of the cave, before standing up and brushing out his pants.

The dragon was just nestled in the blankets, chewing on the meat with content, and paying Lance no mind, but when he turned and began leaving the cave, it gave a loud noise of panic, and hopped out of the nest, waddling towards him. His heart ached at the noises it made, and at the sense of panic and confusion that shot through the bond like arrows.

He picked it up and the dragon instantly curled it’s tail around his arm, letting out distressed chirps. Lance held it for a few moments, running his thumb down the dragon’s nose until it quietened down, before he took it back to the nest and placed it inside, gently unwrapping its tail and stroking it’s head, the small creature nuzzling into his hand as he did so. Beneath his fingers it let out a small rumble, similar to the purr of a cat, and a smile crossed his face.

Picking up the loose edge of a blanket, he dropped it over it’s head, laughing as it let out a squeal and attempted to shake it off. After a few moments of spinning and twisting, the blanket finally dislodged itself from its stubby horns, and the dragon let out a small triumphant noise, sitting on the fabric and looking up at Lance with its wide golden eyes. Its tail swayed slowly behind it as lance ran his hand over the dragon’s head, the purring resuming at a louder pitch.

“Alright.” Lance spoke, crouching so he was eye level with the dragon. “Look, you can’t follow me, you understand? You have to stay here where it’s safe.” When the dragon tilted it’s head to the side, he sighed and tried again. “It’s safe here.” He said, pointing to the nest, trying to convey as much of this through the bond as he could, still testing the limits of the newfound ability. He turned his hand and pointed out through the mouth of the cave, towards the looming cliff face. “Out there is dangerous. You need to stay until I come back.”

The dragon didn't react to his words, it’s tail still swaying playfully behind it as it studied him with its golden eyes, apparently not listening to a word he had said.  
Lance let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, having run out of ways to tell the dragon to remain in the nest. “I’m talking to a dragon.” He deadpanned to himself. “I don't even know if you can understand what i'm saying.”

As if sensing his desperation, which it probably could, the dragon let out a chirp and took a piece of meat in its mouth, before burrowing under the top blanket until it was completely covered. It twisted around for a few moments before it’s head emerged, leaving it the only thing left visible. It chirped again, ripping of a section of meat with its teeth and began chewing intently, and Lance felt what he could only describe as satisfaction emanating through the bond as it ate.

Lance breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled at the dragon, scratching the side of its face, a protective feeling bubbling in his chest.

“Good girl.” he mumbled before pausing. It hadn't even occurred to him whether the dragon was a girl or not. Thinking back, he didn't recall seeing any discernible features on the dragon when it first hatched, or even now, so he shrugged it off. He could figure that out later, he had more important things to do right now, like getting back home before anyone wondered where he was, and trying to figure out if he could sneak back to the cave later in the day to check on the dragon without making anyone suspicious about his comings or goings.

He rose out of his crouch, sending the dragon a mental image of the nest and the cave a final time before turning around and leaving, stepping over pockets of water and rocks that littered the cove, trying to ignore the strange aching sensation that bloomed suddenly in his chest and grew more intense with each step.

As he made his way up the trail and back into the forest after pulling on his shoes, Lance had a feeling that he’d just made either the biggest mistake, or the greatest discovery of his life.

He hoped to the gods that it was the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made some edits to chapter 2, I've changed the names of Lance's siblings to the canon names so it should be less confusing now.  
> You can find me at my tumblr [here](http://cimderslla.tumblr.com/) so come say hi if you want!  
> Don't forget to tell me what you thought, and I should get started on the next chapter soon!!


	4. The Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance visits a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right I know its been 6 months but hey i'm back!! I've recently started at collage so thats one of the reasons why this has taken so long, but you know me by now so its always going to take ages to update lol.  
> This chapter did get so big I had to split it into two parts, so i'm going to try and get that next part done as soon as possible.  
> But I promised myself that id get another chapter of this out before the year was up and I fucking did it!!!
> 
> Also! I've got a spotify playlist for this fic that you can listen to [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/esmondson-j/playlist/4bKqBYI41Zl3VaNj7kFzr9?si=9j4EJtQtTJ-lj2cXeiCweg)  
> Anyway, enjoy!! And don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you think!!

Upon arriving back home after hiding the dragon, Lance’s plan was to quickly grab some breakfast, before heading out to the docks for work, but almost as soon as he walked through the door, someone called his name.

 

“Lance, is that you sweetheart?” His mother, from upstairs.

 

“Yeah, I’m just getting something to eat then I’m going down to the docks.” He called back, heading through their small living room and into the kitchen, pulling open the pantry doors so he could examine what they had inside.

 

“Where’d you go this morning?” He could hear her shuffling around upstairs, but he was more focused on his growling stomach to pay it much mind.

 

“Oh you know, just for a walk.”

 

There was a beat of silence before his mother spoke again. “And what happened up here?”

 

He paused from where he’d been reaching for a loaf of bread. “What?”

 

“All of this glass in your room.”

 

His brow furrowed. Glass? What glass? Lance stood and thought for a few moments, mind whirring through all the possibilities before it clicked - and he froze in place.

 

The egg shell. He’d forgotten to clean up the egg shell last night.

 

Lance cursed under his breath before closing the pantry doors and quickly heading up the stairs, a board squeaking painfully underfoot as he went, causing him to flinch at the abrasiveness. He hurried down the hallway and swung around the corner into the doorway of his room.

 

His mother was stood next to his bed, her long brown hair pulled up into a bun, the open window behind her letting in a faint breeze which made loose strands dance around her face. A large shard of blue egg was held carefully in her hands, the other fragments piled haphazardly at the foot of his bed where he’d absentmindedly brushed them the night before.

 

“What happened?” She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she looked at him.

 

Blanching for a second, he scrambled to come up with a excuse for the mess, which was becoming harder by the second as his mother stared at him, her eyebrow slightly raised as she waited for an explanation.

 

“Uh, it was the stone- the sea glass stone, I mean. The one I found yesterday.” The words tumbled from his mouth, mind racing to come up with a convincing enough lie to dissuade his mother. “I dropped it last night by accident, and I uh, I went out this morning to see if I could find another one because it looked like it could have been worth some money to the traders.” He shuffled his feet slightly, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I forgot to clean it up. I’m sorry Mama.”

 

His mother’s expression softened and she placed the shard down on his bed. “It’s alright Lance, it was just an accident. There’s need to beat yourself up about it, we’ll be fine.”

 

She took a few steps forward and cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone a few times before pinching his cheek lightly. “Now come and help clean all of this up, you’re going to be late for work.”

 

If she noticed him slip a shard of the shell into his pocket, she didn’t say anything at all.

  
  


Thankfully when he ‘explained’ what happened to the stone at dinner that night, most of his family blamed bad luck, or Lance’s slippy fingers.

 

Most of them, that was.

 

Luis however, wouldn't shut up about it. He’d shaken his head in disbelief when Lance had told everyone, and let out a sigh.

“Anything from that forest is bad luck.” He’d spoken, leaning back in his chair with a teasing smile. “Knowing you, that stone actually belongs to a forest hag and now that you dropped it means that you’re cursed for life.”

 

Their father had stopped Luis with a stern look, but there was still a hint of mischief on his brothers face as he continued with his meal. Lance had gotten a tight feeling in his chest about how unknowingly close his brother had been to the truth.

 

At every chance he got after that, Luis found some way to poke fun at Lance about his seeming misfortune, and everytime something even mildly wrong happened, he was found flicking salt or sea water at him, jokingly attempting to ‘ward off Lance’s curse.’

 

He’d crowed about it so much on the docks and with his friends that even some of the younger fishermen began poking jabs at Lance about whether or not he’d be able to handle any of the fish or if he’d drop them too.

Thankfully, he was smart enough not to bring any talk of witches out onto the boats. The people or Narda were superstitious enough - it was bred into them - and the sailors were even more so, having been raised on tales of the mysteries of the Spine and the ancient creatures of the deep, passed down through the generations. If any of them even so much as smelt any mention of hags or spells, Lance would find that no boat would ever let him step foot on its deck again, for fear of his curse spreading to them too.

  


That’s why none of them ever went near Aada’s hut.

  


Aada, a sea battered woman with curled grey hair and dark weathered skin, was easily the oldest person in the village. No one knew her actual age, but if Draven, William’s grandfather, were to be believed than she had been old when he was a but a young boy, which should have been the ramblings of a mad man, but it was strangely entirely believable.

 

She had a hunched physique that made her appear smaller than her actual size, but a life in Narda had made her strong and nimble fingered, her thick forearms showing the muscle she gained from working on the boats for most her life, while her brown eyes still held a bright spark of wit. Her hut resided on the westernmost side of the village, right on the waterfront, the cries of gulls and the sigh of waves eternally filling the air around the small wood and stone structure.

 

Lance wasn't sure how or when the rumours started, apparently they’d even been around when his mother was a young girl, but they’d been background noise of his entire life.

 

If one was to listen to and believe every shred of rumour in the village surrounding Aada, then she was many mythical and impossible things: a shape changing crone; or a sea serpent having taken human form, centuries old and never aging.

 

But rumors shift and change along with the whims and intentions of those who spread them, so thankfully, the worst thing that the majority of the village believed about Aada, was that she was a witch.

 

Witch or not, Aada was the closest thing that Narda had to a healer, so no matter how hard the most stubborn of people said otherwise, everyone in the village looked up to her. She provided them with herbs and ointments for wounds that wouldn’t heal, was midwife to almost every birth, treated those too sick to head up to Carvahall and Therinsford to buy medicines, and cooked hot broth that helped the entire population fight off the winter sicknesses that rode in on the unforgiving sea gales.

  


Once, when he was younger and more impressionable, often swayed by the whispers of his siblings and friends, he’d tried to catch Aada doing spell work. The other children had been too scared to even get close to her hut, choosing instead to hide behind one of the large rocks that dotted the surrounding beach, leaving Lance to approach alone.

 

The closer he had gotten, the more his bravado had diminished until he was certain that Aada herself could hear the _thumpthump_ of his heart through the stone walls.

 

But, his curiosity had driven him on, persuading him with a whisper to scramble up the wooden foundations and climb the weather worn stone wall towards the window, coaxing him to peek with a crook of its finger.

 

At first he’d seen nothing, the interior significantly darker than the bright outside, but his eyes quickly adjusted. A table had taken up most of the space, a hearth was lit and crackling happily with a pot hung above it, and rows of shelves had lined the walls, full of an odd assortment of glass bottles, strangely shaped bundles and small trinkets.

 

Aada herself had been stood with her back to him, chopping something at the table with a precision and certainty Lance had marvelled at, the knife glinting in the light as it moved.

 

He’d frozen and watched, not daring to move, to _breathe,_ in fear that any slightest movement would give him away.

 

However -

 

“Lance Álvarez, are you going to keep hanging onto my window frame or are you going to be polite and come in through the front door like a normal person?”

 

Lance hadn’t known how to react.

 

“How did you know I was here?” He’d asked, the words slipping out before he could reign them in.

 

Aada had just chuckled and shook her head, “I heard you clambering up the foundations.” She’d then turned to face him, brown eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re not as quiet as you think.”

  


That was the first in a long number of days when Lance had returned home with a bowl of hot broth and a small bundle of herbs clutched in his arms.

  


Aada might have been a witch, but Lance thought she was a gods-be-damned good person.

 

That’s why, some days after the dragon hatched, Lance found himself making his way westward down the sun-stained docks towards her small house, a pouch of limpets and oysters hanging from his belt.

 

He whistled a tune as he went, both to alert Aada of his presence and to try and scare off the seagulls that had perched themselves on the rocks and the posts that lined the sides of the rickety dock, leading from the main shore up to her hut.

 

Today was an unusually warm day, meaning that he could go around without his jacket for once, leaving him in just his shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button left undone.

 

It was rare that Narda ever got warm days, because of its northern location, but occasionally some hot air from Surda would curl its way along the shore lines, carried by strong currents until it was deposited suddenly in the village. They never lasted long, which was a shame for the people, since a break from the cold breezes and rains was always welcome - but they could also never be over fast enough, since the increased temperatures meant that the stench of the fish that hung like a cloud over the docks increased tenfold too, wafting deep into the village until almost everything stunk.

 

Somehow though, the air around Aada’s hut was always clear.

 

As he approached, he noticed that the door to the hut was swung wide, propped open by a stone. A quick glance told him that Aada wasn’t inside, so he changed his course and hopped down from the dock onto the rough outcropping of rock below, carefully making his way around the side of the hut, trying not to slip on the moss that clung relentlessly to its surface.

 

His suspicions were quickly confirmed when he spotted a figure sat with their back to him on the edge of the shelf, a thick braid of grey hair slung over one shoulder.

 

“Good morning, Aada!” Lance called towards the old woman, who turned around at the sound of his voice. Her face crinkled into a smile at the sight of him, and she raised a hand in greeting.

 

“Ah! Lance, you’re just in time!” She spoke, her voice strong and clear. “The tea should be finished brewing by now, would you mind pouring this frail old lady a drink?”

 

“Frail?” Lance scoffed, quickly turning back around and heading up the outcropping once more, raising his voice so he could still be heard. “We both know you can probably throw me off this rock if you wanted too.”

 

He clambered back up onto the docks and headed into her hut, scanning around the small room he found himself in until his eyes clapped onto the sight of a kettle hung above the fireplace, steam pouring from its spout as it crested to a boil.

 

“Ha! Damn right I could.” Came Aada’s voice through the open window, directly above the aged table ladened with numerous bundles of different herbs and plants.

 

Lance quickly went about making the tea, grabbing a pair of mugs from where they sat on a shelf and placing them on the table before wrapping a cloth around his hand and removing the kettle from where it hung above the fireplace. He spotted the tin that Aada kept her tea leaves in and cracked it open, scooping out some of the sweet smelling contents into the mugs before pouring the boiling water over them and leaving it to soak.

 

“How went your hunting?” Aada called, the sound of seagulls chattering to each other muted behind her words.

 

“Good. I brought you back some limpets.” He responded as he began putting away the tea leaves and setting the kettle off to cool, this routine they had formed being incredibly familiar to the both of them at this point.

 

“Ah, you’re a good lad, Leandro. Put them on the side for me, I’ll make you some soup later, for you and your family.”

 

Lance did as she said before grabbing the two mugs and making his way back down to Aada, almost missing it when she mumbled, “You’re going to be needing it soon.”

 

Now that confused Lance. He glanced up at the sky, an endless swath of blue that stretched above him, no clouds in sight.

 

“What do you mean, needing it?” He asked as he sat down next to Aada, handing her a cup which she clasped between wrinkled hands. “It’s beautiful outside today.”

 

“Yes, but that’s all going to be over soon.” She told him, taking a sip of the tea before setting it down beside her, next to a bundle of fishing wire and a collection of colorful painted feathers he recognized as fishing flies.

 

“Look, look.” Turning to him with a knowing smile, she pointed out towards the skyline. “Right down there, just over the horizon. Do you see it?”

 

Peering in the direction where she pointed, Lance saw nothing but the clear sky and the faint circling shapes of seagulls above. But then - far off in the distance, almost too far to notice, there was a faint swath of darkness that hovered just above the sea, like someone had forgotten to wipe away a smudge of dirt on a pane of glass.

 

Lance knew he was perceptive, he had to be - a hunter needed the sharpest eye when tracking animals by the disturbances that they left behind in the undergrowth of the forest, and a sailor needed to be able to see well enough to know where the nets were to be tied off and cast late at night, going only by the light of the moon and stars alone.

 

He had no idea how Aada had managed to spot the blooming thunderhead that far off, but he didn’t question her. She always seemed to know when storms were about to arrive, even before some of their best sailors did.

 

He turned to look at her, and realized that she was staring at him expectantly, eyebrow raised slightly as she waited for his response. Lance nodded.

 

“That storm is going to be a big one, mark my words! I can feel it in my bones.” Aada let out a chuckle and rubbed her hands over her thighs, swinging her legs over the edge of the outcropping in a manner that reminded Lance of an excited young child.

 

Lance, however, felt apprehension roll over him.

 

“Really?” He asked, clasping is mug of tea in both hands. “I’m meant to be on the boats again tomorrow. I hope we manage to get everyone back in before it hits.”

 

Getting caught out in a storm was a dangerous thing. The fishing boats could handle rough seas, but they weren't built to withstand the full brunt of a thunderstorm. Only the whaling vessels were constructed with that kind of thing in mind, since the migration patterns took those sailors far north into the tempest lands, but they had been gone on their expeditions for a few months now, and weren’t due to return for a few more. Anyone that got stuck far out when the storms hit had to fight like hell to get back to the safety of the docks, and not all of them make it.

 

A shiver unwillingly ran down his spine.

 

Aada saw his discomfort and placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him back to the present.

 

“Don’t worry lad, we will. The sea may be cruel sometimes, but she’s feeling rather generous at this moment in time. She’ll change her colours soon enough though, just like she always does.”

 

Lance just hummed, not knowing how to respond, and took another sip of his tea, noting that the brew had gotten a bit stronger than he usually liked. As he drank he glanced over at Aada, who was staring out towards the thunderclouds with a look of what seemed like expectancy on her face. A few small strands of hair that escaped her braid curled tightly around her face and her brown eyes seemed to examine the coming storm with a cold sort of precision, as if she was mentally criticising the storm, or keeping it at bay with sheer will alone.

 

The brightly coloured fishing flies caught Lance’s attention one more, their feathers dancing in the cool breeze, and an idea popped into his head.

 

“Can I have some of that fishing twine?” He asked, nodding towards the small spool next to Aada’s leg.

 

“‘Course, whatever for?” She replied, handing over the spool and a small knife, which he took.

 

“I’m making myself a charm, for good luck.”

 

Aada smiled and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “Is it to ward off that ‘Hags curse’ your brother is always harping on about nowadays?”

 

A groan escaped Lance’s mouth. “Oh _gods_ , you know about that too?”

 

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Aada went back to swinging her feet once more. “I know only what the wind tells me.”

 

He was going to strangle Luis when he got home later.

 

After Lance had cut off as much as he needed, he began twisting the twine over his fingers in a neat loop so that its wouldn’t get tangled, barely paying any attention to the motion as he took in the view of the sky and sea before him. The clear salt air drifted past, stirring his hair and clothes, and the calls of the gulls echoed around them, singing of home.

 

Aada grabbed his wrist, her grip as tight as iron.

 

“ _What happened to your hand_?”

 

Her voice had shifted from her usual warm tone - now it was cold, harsh and demanding. There was no traces of her previous friendliness anywhere to be found, just unyielding steel behind her words.

 

Lance flinched backwards, instinctively trying to pull his hand from her grasp, but she held on, the pressure around his wrist tightening until it became a bruising force. Confusion filled him at her words, until he glanced down at his hand - the left one - and saw what Aada was fixated on.

 

The mark.

 

“It- It’s nothing.” He stammered, trying to will his heart to keep a regular rhythm as it began to pound heavily against his ribs, wracking his brain for a convincing lie.

 

Aada’s eyes were cold and unflinching on his, and a tiny, paranoid voice in the back of his mind whispered that somehow, she knew.

 

“I burned myself by accident when I was out in The Spine.” He told her, trying to keep his breathing even, surprised by the sudden intensity in her voice.. “Lost control of the flint and set my glove on fire. I- it was stupid of me, I know.”

 

Aada’s storm filled gaze shifted and stared at the mark, then back at him, long and hard. One more, Lance wondered if Aada was actually a witch, as a shiver ran down his spine at the piercing weight of her stare.

 

“You keep yourself safe now, boy.” She said, brown eyes roaming over his face. “You hear me? If anything truly dangerous happens, you keep yourself _safe_.”

 

Lance nodded vigorously, both confused and panicked by her words “I will, don’t worry.”

 

Her grip tightened once more and she leaned closer to him, and Lance saw her stony expression crack slightly, and a hint of desperation slip through. “ _Promise me_ , Lance.”

 

“...I promise.” He swore, heart pounding heavily in his chest.

 

_What was she talking about?_

 

The iron grip remained for a few seconds more, and then her eyes dropped, losing all sense of fight. Her shoulders slumped under an invisible weight, and she released his hand.

 

“Good.” She nodded, turning back to stare at the clouds on the horizon once more.

 

Lance pulled his arm into his lap, rubbing at the now tender skin around his wrist as he eyed Aada warily. In all his years of knowing her, she had never acted anything like that before.

 

This egg - this _dragon_ \- had started something, but what, he had no idea.

 

For a brief second, as Aada stared out to sea, she looked ageless, the lines of her face shifting until Lance found himself gazing simultaneously upon a warrior with eyes of steel and knowing, and a woman exhausted with life.

 

“Things are changing, Leandro, far quicker than I ever thought they would.” Her voice was quiet, resigned almost, barely audible above the sound of the rushing water below them.

 

Then the moment passed, and her expression changed back into that of an old woman, whos dark skin had faced many years of weathering and was etched with the lines to prove it. “Now, help me up and let's get started on this soup.”

 

Soon after, Lance left, carrying a steaming bowl of soup clutched in his arms, and with a strange curling sense of unease blossoming in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at my tumblr [here](http://cimderslla.tumblr.com/) if you want to come and talk about anything

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! I'll be getting to the others soon, so don't worry! Please leave kudos and comments telling me what you think, it'll help me get motivated to write more!
> 
> If you want to come talk to me or something you can find me here at my tumblr! http://cimderslla.tumblr.com/


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